Some Things Are Unforgivable
by LIFE the RANGER
Summary: Kendall knew that having a three-year-old son and a pool with no thought of safety would not go together. James isn't concerned...until their son Travis drowns that is. Now Kendall wants James gone as soon as Travis shows signs of recovery. But will Travis's struggles bring them together once again, or are some things truly unforgivable? Rated T for language and other things


_Hello BTR lovers. Okay, okay I know I said I was going to update other shit first, but this couldn't wait. I blame James and Kendall. Got their own little twisted minds begging for attention (and I'm the sorry sap who's giving it to them…)._

_Okay droning on now. Here's this! Hope you like it!_

…

Kendall's POV

…

I knew we were in trouble as soon as James told me we were building a pool. Don't get me wrong, the idea of pool right in our backyard is an appealing one, but it had me worried. James and I weren't married, which meant we could adopt a kid. We had Travis since he was a wee tot of four months old. At two, his…caring…father decided it was time for a pool. At three, said pool was finally finished, and he couldn't wait to go in.

"Daddy, now!" he cried, hopping around his closet of a room as I struggled to locate his blue and green swim trunks. Travis was a mix of James and myself; blonde hair, hazel eyes, a frame that had some fat (James) but was mostly lanky (myself). He had my husband's severe impatience, I'm afraid.

"Where's a swim diaper?" I asked him pointedly, smiling as he shrugged his little shoulders. I retrieved one from the basket of mismatched diapers we kept in his room and put on one him before helping him climb into his trunks. I wisely put mine on before he woke up from his nap, so I didn't have to rush to get ready with him. I left my white t-shirt on (more for his other father than him). "Let's go see if your other daddy is ready," I said to him as I took his hand and led him down the hall to our room.

"Decent!" James called just as we stopped outside the door. How he did it was beyond me, but I smiled as I pushed open the door. James was sitting on the edge of our bed, loose black trunks making me wish Travis was somewhere else. But I was aware of his presence yet again as a small hand slipped out of mine and a small wall of weight crashed into James. "Oomph," he said, fake grimace on his face. I covered my mouth to hide the smile forming. "Wow kiddo, you sure are strong," he cooed to Travis, picking him up. Travis laughed and the sound filled my with a happiness unrivaled since James asked me out when we were oh thirteen or so.

"Swimming!" Travis exclaimed, effectively derailing my train of thought. Even though he was happy, this whole swimming thing made me nervous. There was no fence, no shallow end, nothing to stop him from entering at his own leisure. That set warning bells off in my head (the father in me, sorry).

"James," I said as we herded Travis out back. "This unguarded pool has me worried. He could fall in if we're not looking…" James put a hand on my shoulder as we got to the edge, also grabbing Travis's shoulder.

"Baby," he said, making me look him in the eye. "He won't fall in. We'll always be watching him." He strapped on Travis's life jacket and got in with him.

Looking back on it now, I could've decked James then and there.

…

"James!" I called; panic beginning to set in, in earnest. It was eight at night, and Travis was no where to be found. We'd finished our swimming hours ago, and Travis should've been in bed by now. But neither James nor I had seen him since dinner. James washed up after our meager dinner, and I'd gone downstairs to start up a load of laundry. When I'd come back up, Travis wasn't in the living room where he left him.

"He's around here baby," James said calmly, smoothly. "He couldn't have gone far." I paced back and forth in the living room, thinking hard. I don't know what force prompted me to look at our patio door, but something made me look. Boy do I wish I hadn't. My stomach came to my throat when I noticed it was open a crack, just big enough for a three-year-olds body to slip through.

"Ja…" I said, my throat closing. I wordlessly pointed to the door. James's eyes followed my finger, and I saw his face fall momentarily. But it was replaced with a look of his usual calmness.

"He's probably just playing on his swing set," he said. "I'll go out and get him." He kissed my forehead, a gesture so familiar I smiled. James let himself out the door. Nothing to worry about, I told myself. Travis is fine. That was before I heard the scream, followed by a splash.

…

Being in the waiting room of Sherwood Hospital at midnight is not my idea of fun. So far they've been able to revive Travis, but they have yet to determine the damage, if any at all. Who knows how long he'd been in the pool for, at the bottom breathing water instead of air. James was quiet on the ride over, still dripping from his unplanned dip in the pool. I was silently fuming. I knew that pool was a bad idea! Now Travis could have serious problems growing up.

"Kendall. James." I looked up and saw Logan Mitchell, our family doctor and long time friend. He smiled but his eyes showed hidden concern. "It's been hours and we haven't detected much. He's going to have to stay over night so we can keep our eyes on him." He studied us both like we were interesting science experiments with outcomes he didn't predict. I wanted to scowl at him but I was so worn out from the last few hours I couldn't do more than grimace. "But there is one thing," he continued, causing both James and I to spring to our feet. James wasn't strong by even the loosest definition, but he managed to yank Logan right off his feet as he pressed his face close to the ravenette's.

"Please," James begged. "Please tell me you've discovered something good." One look from Logan was all it took to tell one thing; whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"He's wide awake," Logan began uncertainly. Prompting from James let him continue. "He won't talk to us. He can hear us; he responds to our voices. But he won't speak to us. And you know those little movements kids make even when they lay still?" Nodding, nodding, lots of nodding. "Well he's not doing any movement at all, except for his eyes. There's a possibility the drowning could have damaged his motor skills."

"English!" James roared, and even I flinched away from the venom in his voice.

"Paralyzed!" Logan finally cried out. "He could very well be paralyzed." My world began to spin and I sank to my knees. James rushed over to me and began helping me to my feet.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked. By now I was so furious I had no word to describe the anger I felt. I loathed James then.

"No," I practically growled, shoving away from him. Both Logan and he looked shocked. Let them be that way, at that point I didn't care. "Because of your bullshit promises and fucked up pool our little boy could very well be fucked up for life." James stepped back like I'd whipped him. I might as well have. That would still be letting him off easy. "What you did is unforgivable James. You can stay for now, but when and if Travis recovers any of his past skills, I. Want. You. Gone!" I stuck my face right in his, and he backed up a few steps, eyes slightly more hazel than normal. Good, let him cry. Some things just weren't forgiving.


End file.
